


Neon Filth

by sapphire_child



Category: Lost
Genre: Dead but also here Charlie Pace, Gen, Season/Series 04, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-04-01
Updated: 2008-04-01
Packaged: 2019-01-19 09:47:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12407997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphire_child/pseuds/sapphire_child
Summary: A man sits alone in the neon filth of Los Angeles and remembers the luminous colours of the island. Spoilers for the first episode of season four.





	Neon Filth

**Author's Note:**

> For [](https://user.livejournal.com/profile)[user](https://user.livejournal.com/)’s season 4 hiatus challenge day 2. Inspired by the [photograph](http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v460/Devi/000fe67w.jpg) and the quote (which is featured in the cut)

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/155122168@N03/36527338603/in/album-72157686884668124/)

He’s travelled all over the world – at least twice if not more now – but somehow the city lights still manage to leave him dazed and confused tonight. Maybe he thinks, it’s all because of those three months he spent on a beach with only the stars and moon to light his way as he trod through soft sands to reach his bed.

In that short time he’d almost forgotten what neon looked like. Brick. Metal. Concrete. The colours were always so indecently bright on the island, luminous shades of green and blue contrasting sharply with the moist, dark blacks and browns, and the startling white of the sand.

Now everything is grey and faded. Smog and smoke, trash and decay. He feels choked by the thick air – every breath seems ten times harder here. Even the coffee in his hands tastes like dirt – although he shouldn’t have expected anything better. It’s funny...well, ironic really...that he used to like the bustle and noise of Los Angeles. Now he just wishes he could see the stars again.

He glances at his watch and then, sighing, he tosses his coffee cup in the bin and then stands and straightens his leather jacket before stepping out onto the footpath. He glances both ways before he crosses the street at a slow jog and then continues on, trying to find a taxi that he can hail.

In another six hours he’ll be gone again. On his way to a new city, a new alias, a new covert op that will require him to carry a gun with him wherever he goes – just in case. He’s not a bad shot now that he’s had proper training and a scary amount of practice.

Charlie slides into the back seat of the waiting taxi, “LAX please,” and then settles in for the ride.

He hopes that wherever he’s going next, he’ll be able to see the stars.


End file.
